


Songs of Broken Flesh and Bruises

by ozuttly



Category: Fate/Zero, Saya no Uta
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe, F/M, Generally disturbing content, M/M, Mental break downs, canibalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozuttly/pseuds/ozuttly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kayneth is a renowned psychology professor with an attractive fiancee and a bright future ahead of him... Until he gets into an auto accident that paralyzes him and skews his perception of reality until only one thing actually seems real. That thing is the strange and lonely man who wanders the hospital halls at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Type-Moon kink meme, which asked for a Saya no Uta AU based on team Lancer. I took a lot of creative liberty, so I hope that this is still at least... Somewhat enjoyable. Keep in mind, if you don't know the nature of Saya no Uta... This is not a nice story. Bad things are going to happen. This chapter is pretty tame, but if you're squeamish I would step out now. This was also written on no sleep with very little proofreading. Read at your own risk.

Kayneth Archibald had a good life. He was educated, had a good social standing, and was a renowned psychology professor back in London. He had a smart, attractive fiance that he adored, even if his affections weren’t exactly reciprocated. He was happy, or at least content with what he had been given.

He had always strived for more, though. Believed in honour and prestige more than he believed in true happiness. He’d proven himself, time and time again, had lived up to everybody’s expectations. Perhaps, over the years, he had grown a sense of entitlement. He had earned respect, he deserved it. No matter how good the life given to him, it could always be better. 

Right now he wished that he could have been happy with the contentment god had given him. 

Instead, he was sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed down cavernous intestine that he knew to be a hospital hallway by the monster that wore his fiancee’s name. 

“#$%*(@!)*$%&*(@!(#@$%#@@!)*(#@$%^&*!”

A cacophony of squeals and gurgles that couldn’t be described by human language echoed in his ears, and he stared straight ahead, unblinking. He couldn’t acknowledge them. He was an educated man. He knew that this was all in his head. Not psychological, of course. There was no possible way that something like this could be psychological. It had to be neurological, inside his brain rather than his mind, that was the only explanation. 

Unsurprisingly, the thought didn’t bring him any comfort. 

The accident had left him paralyzed from the waist down, his body broken and his brain bruised. For the weeks before his eyes healed, he mourned his loss of mobility, the state he’d been left in. Sola had come to visit him, mostly out of formality, had lied through her teeth about how everything would end well, how he could sue the doctors, could ruin the hospital that made him this way, as though that was some kind of penance. He could hear the smile in her voice, the one that never stretched past her lips, the one she always reserved for the times the two of them were together. 

He cursed fate for leaving him so crippled. 

Then his sight returned, and he prayed for god to take it all away again. 

What had been left of his other senses was warped by what he saw. The rotting flesh and innards that made up the hospital’s walls, the pooling, rank blood that pooled on the floor and the stench of feces that floated through the air. More than the surroundings, the people were the worst. Monsters beyond his worst imagination, speaking to him on friendly terms. The beast that claimed to be Sola-ui, the one woman that he loved more than anything, stroking his hair with oozing, broken appendages that could barely be called fingers.

He tried to beat it with logic. He was a logical man, a professor, a specialist of the human mind and all of its twisted intricacies. 

He knew better than anybody that he couldn’t escape from hell by trying to think it away. 

There was only one way out. 

It wasn’t an option. 

No matter what state he was in, suicide was beneath him. He had spent his entire life building himself up, earning a name for himself. He would not tear all of that down by himself. He refused to. 

That didn’t keep the knife that came with his daily meals from looking more and more inviting every day. It was a battle between sanity and pride, and every day, his pride was dripping away as steadily as the IV connected to his arm. 

The first time he felt a flicker of hope was when he saw the man. 

A man, not a monster. The first man he’d seen since he opened his eyes. The first human being, the first thing that anchored him to reality since the accident, the one thing that kept him from plunging the knife into his heart. 

He was a stranger, somebody that Kayneth had never seen before. He was beautiful, even though it felt strange to describe a man as being beautiful, and Kayneth insisted it was simply because of his condition that he saw him in such a way. Deep down he knew that it wasn’t. 

The man lingered in the halls, long after lights out, lurking but never entering any rooms. He looked lost and confused, like a puppy searching for its owner. Some nights his hand would linger over a button of flesh that must have been a doorknob, shaking ever so slightly before it would retract, and he would leave. His head was always bowed as he walked out, disappearing behind a pulsating mound and into the shadows. 

Before long, Kayneth had started to anticipate him, to look forward to him. One thing that was normal, that he could hold onto. His anchor in a world that had turned against him. Proof that he wasn’t completely mad. 

The man’s visits kept him sane, even though he had never acknowledged Kayneth’s existence. They never spoke, until the one night when Kayneth couldn’t hold himself in any longer. 

“Stop snivelling and open the door.” 

He was surprised by how sure his voice sounded, while still being gravelly and harsh from disuse. The only one he spoke to these days was Sola, and even then their conversations were sparing and short. It felt strange, to speak to somebody who wasn’t a monster, to feel the way he used to feel when admonishing his students for poor behavior. They all used to speak of how harsh a taskmaster he was, how his strictness lacked any sort of human compassion. Right now he was grateful for it. 

The man froze immediately upon hearing him, his head swiveling around and golden eyes locked on Kayneth. For a moment the professor almost felt nervous, seeing a gaze that intent directed upon him, but he was a man of high standing and purpose. He had too much pride to be intimidated by somebody who spent their nights failing to open a door in a hospital that, to the other man, probably looked completely normal. 

The stranger glanced behind him, as though trying to make sure that he was actually the one being addressed, and then he turned back around, and his expression changed completely. His face softened, joy lighting up his eyes, and he stepped through the doorway into Kayneth’s room, looking as though he’d been offered an invitation into Buckingham Palace. 

Kayneth sneered at him. 

The stranger hovered at the edge of the bed for a moment, as though he weren’t quite sure what to do, wringing his hands nervously in front of him. He was silent, and Kayneth leveled him with a harsh and judging stare. The happiness emanating from his frame didn’t cease. 

“Well? Are you going to say anything, or are you simply going to stand there giddy all night?” Kayneth kept his voice harsh, blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he got his first real look at the man that he secretly considered to be his saviour. 

He looked... strange. From this close, he could see that the doctor’s coat he wore was covering a far more bizarre costume, could see a strange fire in the man’s eyes that seemed strange even in a world of wrong. This person, this one thing that had seemed normal from afar, looked to perhaps not be so normal after all. Kayneth almost regretted his decision, but then the man spoke up. 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to... That is, I’m not exactly used to...” he trailed off, as though he weren’t quite sure how to carry on a conversation with another human being, and he paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It is simply the first time in a long time that somebody’s spoken to me.”

He smiled then, genuinely happy with such a simply and decidedly rude gesture, and Kayneth shifted his upper body uncomfortably in his bed. This man’s gaze was shockingly earnest, like that of a child, and he vaguely recalled how he used to think of the wanderer as a lost puppy looking for an owner. 

“I find that surprising. This is a hospital, and you skulk around here every night. I’m shocked that the incompetent security hasn’t picked you up and kicked you out already. I’ll have to speak to them about it in the morning.” 

The smile wavers slightly, but not in anger or suspicion. It looks like regret, like guilt that somehow he’d accidentally angered the one person who would speak to him. Kayneth frowned. It wasn’t fair, looking so much like a wounded dog at a few mere words. An adult shouldn’t act in such a way. It was unsightly, and Kayneth certainly did not feel bad for hurting this fool’s feelings. 

He sighed anyways.   
“What are you doing here?” A change of subject was in order, and almost immediately the stranger perked up once more. 

“Ah, I’m looking for somebody. Or rather, I’ve been trying to. It appears that he’s no longer here.” He explained simply, grabbing what appeared to be an oversized liver and dragging it across the floor. The squelching sound it made as it moved brought bile up in Kayneth’s throat, and he had to look away as the man sat down. 

He received a concerned glance in return, and tried to wave it away with a flick of his hand. The worry in the other’s face didn’t disappear. 

“If whoever you’re looking for is no longer here, why on earth do you stay around? To scare patients while they’re trying to sleep?” He said it less harshly than he meant, and almost ended up sounding curious rather than sarcastic and scathing. He hated that, and the way that his question was taken as a serious inquiry rather than a rude remark. 

“I have nowhere else to go.” It’s a simple answer, and one that made Kayneth want to roll his eyes. How somebody so simple has lasted into adulthood was beyond him. And yet he was curious. It’d been so long since he’d had a conversation, since he’d spoken to somebody who had replied with something other than a mess of syllables that gave him a headache and made him want to die. 

“How foolish...” He spoke the words and closed his eyes, resting his head on the blistered skin that made up his pillow. They were both silent then, until something burbled down the hall, and the stranger looked up in a hurry. Kayneth watched his reactions, knew that he wasn’t somebody who should be in the hospital after hours, and he closed his eyes in exasperation. “Well, get going, then. That sounds to be the night nurse. I don’t want to explain my having a pointless conversation with an intruder.” 

The man smiled once more, standing in a hurry, however before he disappeared into the hall he glanced back over his shoulder. 

“Would you mind if I came back tomorrow night, sir?” 

He asked so earnestly that Kayneth found he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, and he nodded his head weakly, not even bothering to open his eyes. 

“If you actually have the decency to tell me your name next time, then I’ll consider it.” He doesn’t bother to introduce himself. His name was on the chart right next to his bed, and while it would be polite, he was tired, far more tired than any human being ever had any right to be, and formalities were beyond him. 

The man blinked, as though the idea of giving a name had completely slipped his mind, and he paused for a moment as though he needed to think of exactly what it was he called himself. 

“My apologies, sir. You may call me Diarmuid.” With that he disappeared around the corner, just as the night nurse rounded the corner, a flashlight clutched in her mutated hands. He liked to think that she smiled warmly when she saw that he was still awake, but all Kayneth saw was a gaping gash in an eyeless, expressionless face.


	2. Chapter 2

The day after his meeting with Diarmuid, Sola-ui visited Kayneth in the hospital. 

Before the accident, he had relished all of the time they spent together, had tried unendingly to gain her approval. Their marriage was political and they both knew it - Kayneth was too old for her, not outgoing enough, not attractive enough. His only appeal was his money, which she had enough of on her own. He bored her. 

It made the times when she actually cared enough to visit him that much sweeter. 

He was desperate and he knew it. He was certain that she knew it too, and that it only furthered her disdain towards him. 

These days, however, seeing his fiancee merely exhausted Kayneth’s ever-thinning will to survive. He still loved Sola, he knew he did. The gurgling beast that sat at his bedside, making soft squelching sounds as it flipped absently through what he could only assume to be a magazine, he did not love. He tried. He tried so hard to connect between the two pieces that made up one whole, but he couldn’t. Perhaps it was for the better. To connect and acknowledge that creature as Sola would surely mean breaking the last of his sanity. 

He said nothing to her as she sat at his bedside, patient and silent. He knew that she wanted something from him. She wouldn’t have come if she didn’t. Before, a part of him would have clung to the hope that she merely wished to be in his company. Now he wanted nothing more than for her to leave. 

“!4*@(#&((4@@!^#40_###”

The beast’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he’s forced to look at it, to pretend that it was, indeed, the woman he loves. 

“My apologies, Sola, I didn’t catch that.” His voice was tired, and for a moment he caught what might be irritation crossing her features, but it was impossible to tell. 

“Y0UR3*&B3!NG#^D1SCH@RG#D)#+0MOR&OW,,” 

He has to focus to decipher what she’s saying as she repeats herself, and when he does, he isn’t sure it’s something he wanted to hear. The hospital, as disgusting as it is to his eyes, is safe. He doesn’t know what lies beyond its walls, and a part of him is sure he doesn’t want to. He could stay here and wallow until he eventually lost what little grip on reality he had left. That would be the safe thing. 

His pride wouldn’t allow him that. To choose to take his own life would be weakness, would bring shame on his name and would soil what he’d made in life. 

There may also have been a part of him, however small, that feared death. For if this earth was the product of his own warped mind, then the fires of hell must be unimaginable. 

“That’s relieving. I truly can’t bear to be here for much longer.” He realizes he needs to speak when the monster keeps staring at him, beady eyes boring into his skull. He tries to project calm and arrogance through his voice, to assure her that he is, indeed, alright. 

He really, truly isn’t. 

She seems to scrutinize him for a moment before she closes the magazine. She speaks again but he can’t focus on it, the screeching noise buzzing in his head, and he closes his eyes as he tries to rest. 

“Must we discuss this now? I’m rather tired, and I’d prefer to rest.” 

She huffs indignantly, but seems to accept that there’s no changing his mind as she sets the book aside and stands, uttering a polite goodbye as she leaves. She’s irritated, he can tell that much through the way she holds herself as she walks, and he’s horrified with himself for recognizing such a familiar mannerism in a being so alien. 

Once she’s gone, Kayneth rests his hands on the layer of skin covering his fleshy mattress, closes his eyes and falls asleep to the smell of rotting flesh and nightmares of uncertainty.

***

When he wakes up, it is to a face hovering over his. 

For a moment Kayneth thinks he’s dreaming still, trapped in fantasies of a world long gone, because this face is completely and utterly human. Golden eyes stare at him unblinkingly, and in his bleary, sleep-addled state he takes the time to go over the stranger’s face, to take in the details. A handsome man, his face clear of wrinkles or blemishes, aside from the mole beneath his eye. Familiar, in a strange sense, and it takes Kayneth a moment to realize where he recognizes him from. 

Diarmuid, the stranger who stalked the halls of the hospital at night. 

Kayneth scowls as he realizes he isn’t dreaming, and the younger man smiles, but doesn’t move from his position. It seems that Diarmuid has difficulty understanding concepts like personal space. 

“What are you doing?" Kayneth glowers as he places one hand on the man’s chest and forcibly pushes him away, watching as Diarmuid’s face falls into confusion.

“My apologies, sir. You said that I could visit again, so I did. I just didn’t wish to wake you.”

Kayneth glances around and finally realizes that hours have past since his meeting with Sola-ui. There are no windows in his room, but the hospital’s lights have been dimmed to signify nighttime, and for some reason he’s never yet seen Diarmuid during the day. 

“Your presense woke me anyways.” He speaks more harshly than he feels. He feels empty and weary, and more than a little relieved to have another human being to speak to... To have somebody he can talk to without fear or inhibitions. Diarmuid reminds him passingly of some of his old students - eager to please and stupidly enthusiastic, while making a mess of even the easiest of steps. Many found them endearing. Kayneth didn’t. 

Despite the coldness of his words, Diarmuid doesn’t seem phased, and simply smiles once more, a soft and knowing smile. 

“I see. Then I shall apologize again, for it was never my intention.” He says it with a bow, and Kayneth can’t help but snort at his theatrics. Diarmuid’s gaze locks on him once more, and he frowns and shifts away. “I was simply looking forward to our meeting. It gets terribly lonely here sometimes. It’s nice to have somebody to converse with.”

Kayneth glances back at him, noticing the way that Diarmuid seats himself on the floor beside the cot, resting his head and hands on the mattress, lowering himself before Kayneth the way a peasant would before a king. It’s a sensation that he can’t say he dislikes. 

“You aren’t a patient.” It’s not a question so much as an observation, and Diarmuid shakes his head in agreement. “Certainly not a doctor or a nurse, and you’re not a visitor either.” Another affirmative headshake, and Kayneth frowns as he scrutinizes the man in front of him. “You do realize that I could call a nurse with a touch of a button, and she would run to get security, do you not?” His hand doesn’t move towards the call button, despite his words. 

Diarmuid seems to take a moment to think things over at that, although a look of worry never crosses his face. 

“I am... An acquaintance, shall we say. A good friend of mine lived in hospice - I would often sneak in at night to visit her.” His eyes turn wistful for a moment, and Kayneth can almost feel himself rolling his eyes. A friend, certainly. The man could not have been more transparent. 

“She died.” Kayneth doesn’t dress up the facts with words or apologies. It’s obvious what had happened, and while Diarmuid flinches, he nods his head. The two of them are silent after that, simply sitting in one another’s company, before Kayneth goes on. “Why continue to trespass? You clearly have no reason to be here anymore.” 

Diarmuid looks at him curiously, then shrugs his shoulders. 

“I have no reason to be anywhere else. Arturia was the one friend I had, and this place is where we spent the most of our time together. I see no reason to leave it.” He explains slowly, choosing his words carefully. He eyes Kayneth and the slightest of smiles came to his face. “And then you called out to me, the first person to speak to me since her death. I feel that in itself makes it worth it that I stayed.” 

Kayneth really does roll his eyes this time. 

They spend the rest of the night making small talk, discussing things of no importance. Diarmuid speaks about his friendship with Arturia; how she had been ill and blind, but still the strongest person he’d ever met. Admiration pours off of his words, Kayneth begins to wonder just how much he’s embellishing due to his obvious infatuation with her. Eventually the tables turn, and Diarmuid is asking questions, looking eagerly to Kayneth for stories of his own.

So he shares. A bit begrudgingly at first, he speaks about his job, about his students and coworkers. Soon he’s engrossed in the conversation, ranting and complaining about the incompetence he had to deal with on a daily basis back when he was working at the university. Diarmuid is a good listener, paying attention to every word without showing signs of boredom or annoyance, and after a while Kayneth is telling him more, telling him about Sola-ui and their upcoming marriage that was put off due to the accident. He tells him about how much he loves her, and how much he misses her, the real her. The younger man is confused by that, but by that time it’s almost morning, and Kayneth is far too tired to launch into that explanation. 

Diarmuid smiles as he stands, stretching himself, and Kayneth barely grimaces as he pulls the covers up around himself. He needs to rest, is sleepy enough that his surroundings barely bother him, and he realizes that this was the first time since the accident that the night didn’t seem to drag on indefinitely. 

Diarmuid glances back over his shoulder, the unspoken question hanging between them before Kayneth frowns and glances at the bedside table. He searches for something resembling a pen and paper, but differentiating between different things is still so hard, still so new to him, that he eventually gives up in a huff. He turns back to Diarmuid, who is watching him with interest, and rattles off his address. The other man simply blinks. 

“I’m being discharged today. If you want to visit again, you’ll have to do so at my home. It should be no problem for you, seeing as you have no reason left to be here anyways.”

Diarmuid is silent and for a minute Kayneth thinks he might have made a mistake, but then the man’s face splits into the widest smile the professor has ever seen on any human being, and he looks so happy it’s almost sickening. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

Kayneth dislikes the small bit of satisfaction he feels at seeing that smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something I feel the need to say, Diarmuid's relationship with Arturia in this story is /not/ romantic. They actually are just friends. :) Also I apologize for any weird tense changes.


End file.
